To the Last Round
by sunshineandsonnyboy
Summary: A young Tony crosses paths with Gibbs and can't help the comforting presence the man exudes under that hard exterior. As the young man grows up he seems to always be drawn back to Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Tony/Gibbs SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**STORY TITLE: **To the Last Round

**CHAPTER TITLE: **seeing is deceiving

**WORD COUNT: **1,618

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own NCIS I only own my made up agents, and the made up murders within this story. Everything else belongs to the ever-lovely NCIS universe.

**RATING:** M = MATURE CONTENT EVENTUALLY (A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GIBBS AND TONY—DON'T LIKE THEN DON'T READ)

**CHAPTER ONE:**

His sparkling green eyes stand out from under controlled brown eyebrows, quirked in the common facial expression of calm confidence and teenage arrogance. A white polo rests lightly upon his form, accentuating all the right places, and making his sun-kissed skin glow in the afternoon light.

Jethro can't take his eyes off him. Steely blue irises coldly assess the youth before him. "Special. Agent. Leroy. Jethro. Gibbs." The boy sounds out each individual word as he reads them off Gibbs' NCIS badge. He rolls the names around on his tongue, tantalizing Jethro with the way he says them.

"Anthony quit playing around, answer his questions so we can leave," DiNozzo senior hisses, breaking the moment of perfect eye contact between the two.

"Yes, sir." Tony replies placating his temperamental father with a sickly sweet tone. DiNozzo senior might not mind, but Gibbs definitely noted the sarcastic quality to Tony's reply. "Agent Gibbs, was there anything else?"

It takes a moment for Jethro to pull out of his thoughts, but he easily shifts his focus back on task. He tries to ignore the hint of a hairless chest teasing him from the open collar of Tony's polo. "Your stepmother, when did you last see her?"

"Dad wasn't home the day she died; it was just me and her. I was lounging by the pool when she came out and told me she was going out to meet some friends for a late lunch. However, if I remember correctly she looked more prepared to turn a few tricks, than go to a nice restaurant—" Tony stops short as he glances towards his father, shame and anger crossing the older man's face. Jethro resists the urge to shift into defensive mode. The glint of malice directed towards Tony from his own father is slightly unnerving. Gibbs carefully watches the clenched fist of an angry DiNozzo senior, already prepared to drag the youth out of the way.

"Tony follow me." Gibbs crooks his finger, realizing that any of the good information he could possibly get out of the boy might be ruined with his overbearing father standing right behind him.

"On your six sir." Tony jokes lightly, mock saluting the older man. DiNozzo had been fooling around with naval terms since he had heard that Gibbs had been a Marine. It pleased Jethro slightly to hear the kid acting so calm around him, and it was a little hard for him to admit that he liked hearing the boy speak to him that way. Gibbs couldn't help liking the idea of Tony working as his subordinate one day, the kid just seemed to naturally ease the tension building between the man's shoulder blades. Usually, talking to people caused a headache and strained his nerves, but Tony had actually cooled the pain in his temples that DiNozzo senior had placed there.

Gibbs leads them into a conference room, pleased with the less tense setting that DiNozzo senior was making it. "Tony sit."

"Yes sir." Unlike when he answered his father, Tony now sounded sincere with his words, obediently sitting in the rolly chair presented to him.

"How was your relationship between you and your stepmother?" Gibbs asks bluntly, trying to again pick up the train of conversation, he had been on earlier with the boy.

"—you won't tell my dad what I say right?" Gibbs nods quickly, unwilling to give the other man a reason to beat his son.

Jethro had known the DiNozzo family for quite a while, Anthony DiNozzo Senior was best friends with the director of NCIS and he often frequented here when he ran into some trouble. Gibbs was introduced to him a few years back, and even then, he hadn't liked him. However, when the man finally brought in his (at the time, two years ago) fifteen year old son, Anthony DiNozzo Junior, Jethro couldn't control himself. A pulse of possessiveness rushed through him every time he had looked at the youth that one fateful day.

It hadn't helped that Tony had decided to wear a shirt that was too small for him, it hugged every single curve of his chest and abs, while also being too short. So, when Tony started talking expressively with his hands to Gibbs, the shirt would pull up, exposing those wonderful tan muscles underneath. Jethro was even more tortured when he realized Tony was riding his jeans low that day, giving the older man a perfect glimpse of the faint pubic hair trail leading down from the boy's naval.

Seeing the boy today, Jethro can't believe the kid is only seventeen years old. His body looks at least that of a nineteen year old, and the way he skips through different ways of speaking—such as being able to talk like a normal teenager or also being able to hold an intelligent conversation with Gibbs—would lead any adult astray into thinking he was at least in his second or third year of college.

"This has to be my seventh stepmother Special Agent Gibbs, she wasn't that interesting, nor that stand out. I tolerated her, and she tolerated me. Simple as that. Sorry to say, but she was highly insignificant in my life, I mean I'm a senior in high school, my stepmother didn't interest me at all. Especially knowing that she would be divorcing my father in no time, like all the others." Tony speaks with unabashed honesty, trusting Gibbs to guard his words like a priceless jewel.

"Do you know who she was going to meet?" Gibbs asks softly, not expecting the kid to know anything else, it had been pretty much laid out that Tony didn't pay any attention to the twenty-something woman who had been planned to walk out of his life faster than she had weaseled her way in. So, went the way of all DiNozzo Senior's past marriages. The only one that stayed the longest was Tony's mother, but the she was killed in a car accident before she could truly make an impact on Tony's life.

The idea that the kid had to suffer with DiNozzo Senior for all those years angered Gibbs to no end, unable to even fathom the verbal and physical abuse that the kid must have suffered.

"Not really…I did have a suspicion that she was cheating on my father. I heard her talking to a male friend one day on the phone, but who knows." Tony reaches absentmindedly to scratch his stomach, pushing the fabric up with his hand and letting his fingers dance over his flesh.

Jethro let his eyes wander down to the glimpses of tanned flesh waiting for him. Unthinkingly licking his lips at the sight of Tony's taunt abdominals.

He gaze hardens though, catching sight of a weirdly shaped bruise marring the boy's perfect skin. Before he can stop himself, his hand reaches out to brush delicate fingers over the exposed area of the bruise. A light whimper escapes Tony's mouth, his hand raising the shirt slightly higher. Embarrassment and shame cross his face, tinting his cheeks red as he lets his gaze drop from Gibbs'.

"…Did he…?" Gibbs' question remained unfinished, but Tony knew exactly where he had been going with it.

"Yes,…I snuck out last week, and he found out…when I came home the other day he…was angry…" Tony's voice cracks lightly leaving the sentence unfinished, but Gibbs' fingers still connect them. Lightly he strokes the oddly colored flesh, wishing anything to go out there and beat the hell out of that ungrateful prick, but that wouldn't solve anything.

A knock at the door sounds, swiftly moving them apart, Tony's shirt falls to rest back in correct order. Without a sound, Gibbs pulls out his card, and quickly scratches down his cell phone number on the back. He slides the card across the edge of the table to Tony, who takes it with gracious eyes. "Gibbs…" Tony starts, but the door to the conference room bursts open.

An angry DiNozzo senior marches in, much to the protest of Gibbs' agent, Danny Thomson—a good agent by all means, and Gibbs' right hand man at the moment. "As I was just telling you Mr. DiNozzo," Danny bites out, throwing Gibbs' an annoyed look, "Special Agent Gibbs needs time to make sure we know everything that Tony saw that night before your late wife died."

The long string of wives that Anthony DiNozzo Senior had married all came from seedy parts of town, but sadly, this time he picked a dud. The late Lauren DiNozzo, had gotten herself into a real mess before getting murdered a week ago. She had been found chopped into pieces, her body parts mixed with that of a Master Chief Petty Officer and found near a seedy motel. Now that Tony had confirmed Jethro's suspicions of Mrs. DiNozzo having an affair, the idea that Mr. DiNozzo had found out and killed them both seemed a lot more plausible.

"It's okay Thomson, DiNozzo Junior told me little to nothing." Jethro covers, eyeing DiNozzo Senior warily. His instincts to protect the young man overwhelming him. He glances to Tony, who looks perfectly nonchalant, a tiny smirk plastered onto his face. "Mr. DiNozzo," Jethro dismisses the man with his tone, watching the father gesture for his son to follow him. Tony lurches forward, throwing a wink a Gibbs over his shoulder.

"See yah, _Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs_." Tony huskily murmurs, rushing to follow his father when DiNozzo Senior barks at him from down the hallway.

"What was that about?" Danny Thomson questions, scratching the hair on the back of his neck.

"Go see them out." Jethro orders, purposefully ignoring the question.

* * *

**Thanks for reading the first chapter of my new fic.**

**this is my first time writing Gibbs/DiNozzo slash so please forgive me if i'm awful at it.**

**comments are much appreciated! **

**-alex**


	2. Chapter 2

**STORY TITLE: **To the Last Round

**CHAPTER TITLE: **sweet torture

**WORD COUNT: **2,925

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own NCIS I only own my made up agents, and the made up murders within this story. Everything else belongs to the ever-lovely NCIS universe.

**RATING:** M = MATURE CONTENT EVENTUALLY (A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GIBBS AND TONY—DON'T LIKE THEN DON'T READ)

**CHAPTER TWO:**

[ three months later ]

Gibbs growls, hitting the same key on his keyboard for the fifth time, but still the file would not pop up. Thomson and Matthews had left hours ago and were probably asleep by now but Gibbs had persisted in his usual way. The elevator dings in the silence of the practically barren floor. Like him, there are a few people scattered around, each of them catching up on paper work of some sort.

He barely registers the noise, only looking up when two pairs of feet stop in front of his desk. His eyes come up to connect with glimmering emerald irises, obviously happy to see him.

"Special Agent Gibbs, this kid was asking for you, and insisted that I take him to see you," the guard murmurs, his hand still resting lightly on the youth's shoulder.

"Don't worry about him Stan, I know him." Gibbs dismisses the guard with a tight-lipped smile, not quite sure, if he should be alone with the boy. "DiNozzo what are you doing here?" Gibbs' eyes drag over the ever-changing form of Tony, who even three months since the last time he saw him, is slightly taller, and already looks a tad bit older.

His inspection doesn't miss the dark black circle ringing the boy's right eye and sparking a warm pit of anger in the bottom of his stomach.

"Well, I was wondering if you wanted to spend the night with me…it's my eighteenth birthday and god knows my father isn't going to be doing anything." Tony awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, his hair also longer since his stepmother's murder. A slight bit of gel had been rubbed through giving him a stylish just-got-out-of-bed look. It suits him, Gibbs notes.

Thinking of Tony's stepmother, her murderer had been caught, but he had obviously been a hired killer. However, much to Jethro's anger, he could never find the evidence linking Tony's father to the contract killing. So, that bit of the case had been filed away in cold cases, for someone to finally figure out the missing link.

"What exactly are you expecting?" Jethro questions, his eyes having fallen back to the computer screen in frustration. He jabs the key a few more times, drawing the attention of Tony.

"I wasn't hoping for anything much, maybe you taking me to dinner, we chat about movies or football, you buy me a drink in celebration," all the while leaning over the desk and quickly typing the commands to bring up the file. Gibbs shoots Tony a look, almost allowing himself to smile when he sees the overconfident smirk on his face. "It doesn't need to be anything special; thanks to my father I haven't had a birthday in the past five years. So, even if it goes horribly wrong, it will still be better than all the rest," the brunette admits, quickly counting the years on his fingers.

Jethro grits his teeth in anger at the confession of Tony's mistreatment at his house, and the obvious nonchalance at his own father's shitty attitude.

Gibbs clicks the button on his computer monitor shutting it off and opens the drawer next to his desk. Tony watches with rapt attention as Jethro pulls out his gun and badge from the drawer.

"So, I'm guessing this means yes?" Tony asks excitedly, his face lighting up in happiness. Gibbs frowns slightly, being reminded suddenly of Tony's youth. Jethro could be his father, albeit a much better one, but deep down Jethro is still trying to find more reasons to deny the dinner with the boy in front of him. As much as he hates to admit, even to himself, his whole being yearns to give the boy at least one good birthday memory.

"What are you wearing?" Jethro questions, eyeing the matching navy blue blazer with red and navy striped tie and khaki pants. A bright crimson emblem on his chest pocket displays a jaguar clawing at a big embroidered 'B'.

"My school uniform, Brighton's Prepatory and Higher Education School of Learning for Young Men, or BPHESLYM, it helps if you just sort of spit it out as if you are sneezing." Tony murmurs, wondering where exactly someone got the shitty idea to name a school something so long and pretentious.

"That supposed to get you ready for Harvard…Yale?" Jethro questions as he leads them into the elevator. They stand almost uncomfortably close, Gibbs just now noticing Tony shouldering his book bag. "Did you not go home?"

"Actually, I don't want to go to either of those places, I'm more interested in becoming a cop…or doing what you do Gibbs…" Tony murmurs, ignoring the other question the older man had posed. "Needless to say, my father isn't very happy with my choices." A moment of silence falls in between them, but Gibbs can see the cogs whirling in the youth's head. "Gibbs, do you think cop school is like in Police Academy, the movie? I mean because if it is, that means it's going to be really fun!" Jethro eyes the youth warily, quite unsure which questions Tony actually wanted answers to, if he wanted answers at all.

The elevator finally stops at their level, and Gibbs leads the boy to his car, "okay, so I don't want to be seen with you in the uniform, it'll probably get me arrested, can you at least take off your jacket or something?" Jethro sighs, not the least bit surprised when Tony immediately pulls off his blazer and tugs a t-shirt out of his backpack. The blazer gets shoved into the confines of the bag and tossed on the floor of the passenger side of Gibbs' car.

Jethro nearly chokes as he watches Tony undo the button down shirt that had been under his jacket and toss that in the car too. In the next few minutes, Tony plops down in the seat, his blazer, and dress shirt traded in for a casual red polo. "All primped now DiNozzo?" Gibbs barks, turning the car on.

"Yes sir!" Tony answers cheekily, saluting the gruff man sitting next to him. Gibbs rolls his eyes, always amazed at kids resistance to his cold tone. "So where we going Gibbs?" Tony bounces excitedly next to him, his eyes seemingly not missing anything as they pass through the quiet streets.

"Well it's almost one in the morning, so we'll have to go to a friend's bar of mine that will be the only place open." Gibbs murmurs, having decided that would probably be the only place he could get Tony in at this time.

"Sounds awesome! He a marine buddy?" Tony questions unabashed.

"Yes, DiNozzo,"

They drive in silence, Tony staring wide-eyed out the window, as if he hadn't seen these streets before. In all possibility, he probably hadn't seen them at night. When dusk fell, the people changed from the ones seen wandering around during the daytime.

It took them twenty minutes to reach the bar, the open sign flashing in the front window that had drawn blinds. Cars littered the parking lot out front, easing some of the tension that had been building within Gibbs. At least there was a likable amount of people here, just enough that people wouldn't be bothered to eavesdrop on his conversation with the youth, and few enough that it wouldn't be a stuffy atmosphere.

Tony hurriedly stuffs his dress shirt in his bag, and throws the strap over one shoulder when he gets out of the car. Gibbs follows, throwing the boy a questioning look for bringing his bag along. Tony just smirks, not looking like he is going to reply. Jethro holds the door open for his young ward, rolling his eyes as he watches Tony stroll confidently in. Gibbs steers them to an open booth and sits down, however, Tony wanders off towards the bathroom.

The older man stares after him, but Tony doesn't turn around to offer an explanation for his sudden departure. Even a, "I need to take a shit," would have been nice Gibbs jokes to himself.

"Jethro!" A deep voice growls warmly, Gibbs looks up with a happy smile.

"Bobby, the bar scene still treating you well?" He stands to give the man a loose hug, happy to see his friend doing so well.

"You know it, hired myself some new bar keeps so that this old leg quits bothering me from overwork," Bobby Myers had almost had his leg shot off during one of his tours with Gibbs. Ever since the hospital had been unable to remove the slug, they reconstructed his leg and he had been in honorable discharge since that time over fifteen years ago. Now the man had some gnarly scars running up his left leg, but they fit his character.

"Oh really, you seeing anyone Bobby?" Gibbs asks lightly, he had gone through Bobby's wife leaving him for another man, and the poor guy had been ruined because he thought they had been meant to be together.

"Yeah, and they're treating me real nice." Bobby mellows out, a wistful smile playing across his features. "But more to the point, who was that boy who came in with you?"

"He's…" Gibbs looks to the bathrooms, eyes widening slightly as Tony emerges from the white door. The boy is still wearing the flattering red polo, but in place of the boring khakis are tight fitting jeans. Gibbs can already tell they hug his butt in all the right places, and can see how much emphasis they put on his crotch. "…He's the son of a friend, thought he might want to be a cop or work at NCIS." Jethro moves his eyes away from the boy sauntering over here, stealthily trying to hide the pleased look on his face. Bobby gives Jethro a skeptical look, telling Gibbs with his eyes that he doesn't believe him, and he's right. Tony isn't the son of a friend, he's not here to talk about what it's like to be an NCIS agent. No, this is purely pleasure, and completely wrong.

However, Bobby doesn't say anything. Tony throws his bag onto the floor, under the table of their booth, and sits down with a radiant smile.

"So whaddya want, looking for something to eat too?" Bobby asks, eyeing Tony mischievously.

"Yeah, bring us two burgers with fries and some of your finest bourbon for me and a coke with a dash of vodka for him." Jethro orders for them both, Tony goes to open his mouth, probably going to whine about wanting a real drink, but Gibbs shoots him a glare and DiNozzo shuts his mouth with a smirk.

"Got it Leroy." Bobby limps off, making his rounds to the other tables that held regulars to his bar. His voice carried around the room, warming the atmosphere considerably. When most people would be trying to drown their sorrows in drink, Bobby offered an ear for them to tell their troubles. He cared about people in general, and made sure everyone got home safe.

"So you're turning eighteen," Jethro murmurs letting his fingers run over the marks carved into the table by pens or pocketknives.

"At three am."

"So even as a baby you were a handful, getting delivered at three in the morning," Jethro murmurs, nodding thanks to the young man who brings both their drinks to the table. He takes a sip of his bourbon, allowing the taste to calm him even more.

Their talk lulls for a few minutes, Tony sipping his drink, all the while a small smile on his face.

"Here's your food boys!" Bobby exclaims, putting down the two plates. Tony digs in hungrily, mowing down his French fries in no time and then moving on to his burger. Jethro takes this time to watch him, unable to miss the bright glimmer in the youth's eyes and happy expression.

Tony finishes before him, and pushes the plate away, leaning back in satisfaction. "Do you play any sports?" Jethro asks, recalling the things Tony had said back at the NCIS office.

"Yeah, football and occasionally basketball." The brunette takes the last sip of his drink as he speaks, turning his full attention onto Gibbs.

"Any good?"

"Hell yeah, I'm the best quarterback Brighton's had in years!" Tony exclaims, fist pumping as he bounces for a second in the seat.

"Where do yah wanna go after this birthday boy?" Jethro asks, finishing off his food and his drink.

"Anywhere but home."

/

They continue talking for an hour, the time nearing three in the morning. Jethro keeps his eyes on the time, wondering what he should do with the kid when their time is up. Tony just exuded this friendly aura, that soon had Bobby joining them at the table and filling in the rare lulls in conversation.

During this time, Gibbs had broken down, and given Tony a steady stream of different colored drinks. The man carefully watching the youth for any signs of drunkenness, and quickly finds out that Tony is a happy drunk. The kind that just gets more talkative, and completely giggly. Even Bobby looks amused by the boy sitting in front of him.

At three am, the two men turn to Tony and pat him on the shoulder, each murmuring, "Happy Birthday sport."

Tony's cheeks flush in appreciation since he is unused to being treated so nicely. The most he ever got for a birthday was his friends at school taking him somewhere or the football team getting him a cake. Since his father is rich they all thought he had it great, but he never had the heart to tell them the truth.

Gibbs pays Bobby—much to the protest of the man wishing to give the boy the gift of a free meal—and herds Tony out of the bar once he was able to halt the conversation between the old bartender and his charge for the night. Jethro can tell that Bobby liked the boy, but that is obvious, anyone could come to love the comfort of Tony's easy presence.

"Where we going now boss?" Tony hops in the car, placing his bag in-between his feet.

"My house," Jethro had decided sometime during their dinner that it would be better to have Tony stay the night then possibly have him get caught sneaking back into his father's mansion.

"Cool," Tony mumbles, fumbling with the radio and looking for a suitable station. A station finally comes through that is playing oldies. Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Elvis Presley float through the car, calming both men imperceptibly.

Tony leans slightly forward as they pull into Gibbs driveway, his eyes roving the dark exterior of the house.

"Well? Are you coming?" Gibbs barks, already heading towards the front stoop. Tony scrambles out of the car, catching up to stand behind the older man.

"On your six," the words bringing a ghost of a smile to Gibbs' face. "Do you not lock your door?" Tony questions when he realizes Jethro hadn't even pulled out a key.

"Never had anything anyone would want to steal." His answer is short and concise, but Tony knows that no one would dare rob his place. Just the aura that surrounded the house made Tony think a passerby would get a chill as they walk in front of the house. "What time does school start?"

"0820," Tony mock salutes Gibbs, trailing after the older man heading up the stairs.

"Here's the guest room, make yourself comfortable." Jethro gestures to the door across the hall from his and waits until Tony has thoroughly looked around the room and made himself comfortable. "I'll wake you up at seven-thirty to get there in time."

"…Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks,…for everything. This is the best birthday I've ever had." Tony admits sheepishly.

"Happy birthday Tony." Jethro closes the door softly, heavily treading across the hall to his own room and heaving himself into the routine of getting ready for bed. He strips himself out of his clothes, carefully folding them before putting them in the hamper, and putting his shoes off to the side in tidy order. Jethro picks up his pajamas, which consist of a new pair of boxers and a t-shirt with MARINE written across the chest. He brushes his teeth and takes a leak before popping some Advil for the morning hangover sure to come. This action suddenly reminds him that Tony would have a bitch of a hangover tomorrow; grabbing the bottle, he trudges back across the hall to his guest bedroom. Just as he is about to knock, a low groan sounds, followed by a few harsh pants. His fingers rest against the door lightly, accidentally pushing the wood a few inches in. Jethro's eyes connect with the bed, his brain telling him to look away, but his need driving him on.

There on the bed, a shirtless Tony, the only piece of clothing on him being his boxers, but those are around his calves. His knees are slightly bent, his head thrown back in pleasure. Tony's hand is wrapped around his shaft, pumping to the time of his moans.

Gibbs nearly drops the bottle of Advil, but aware that the noise would alert Tony he backs up quickly. Jethro doesn't want the night to be ruined by Tony finding out he is a dirty old pervert. He retreats to his room, dick hard in his boxers aching against the front seam.

"This kid's going to be the death of me."

* * *

**OHMYGOD, everyone thanks for the sweet sweet sweet and wonderful comments! **

**They mean the world to me!**

**Anyways, tell me what you think about this chapter! I quite like it...maybe the whole idea that Gibbs actually gives Tony a good memory for his birthday for once.**

**- alex (love you guys!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**STORY TITLE: **To the Last Round

**CHAPTER TITLE: **Together again

**WORD COUNT: **2,691

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own NCIS I only own my made up agents, and the made up murders within this story. Everything else belongs to the ever-lovely NCIS universe.

**RATING:** M = MATURE CONTENT EVENTUALLY (A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN GIBBS AND TONY—DON'T LIKE THEN DON'T READ)

**CHAPTER THREE:**

Gibbs wakes naturally; his alarm clock telling him that it is still an hour from when he has to wake Tony. His morning routine starts, a quick shower followed by a shave and then he brushes his teeth. He treads nude into his bedroom to don his clothes for work. They include a light blue button down tucked into black dress pants with black socks and his beaten up slip on leather boots.

Tiptoeing downstairs, he walks calmly into the kitchen and starts cooking breakfast. His first order of business is to start the coffee pot, pleased when he smells the first signs of coffee, he moves to making bacon, toast, eggs, and waffles. Since Gibbs rarely ever has a hearty breakfast anymore, it almost surprises him how he falls back into the routine of caring for someone other than himself.

At a prompt seven-thirty, a bed-raggled Tony embarks down the stairs complaining about having an awful headache. Gibbs forces himself to continue focusing on breakfast, even though his eyes would like to wander over the half-naked form of the boy currently sitting down at the kitchen table. He throws himself into the task of setting the table, serving Tony generous amounts of food and some Advil, and pouring himself copious amounts of coffee. They make small talk, Tony filling all the silences with meaningless chatter about his friends at school, girls that had hit on him, and equally laid out reasons for why he had rejected them. Soon Gibbs was urging the boy up stairs to take a shower and get ready for school.

Jethro waited on the couch, carefully checking the time to make sure the fifteen-minute drive (by way of Gibbs-esk driving) would still be possible. He sipped coffee from an already filled travel mug, and read the newspaper.

Tony pounds down the stairs with about a minute before eight, his hair still dripping wet from the shower, but he looks handsome by all means. Even the slight wrinkle in his clothes don't off put the pure manly desire emanating off him. "Ready to go?" Tony asks, toeing on his shoes.

Jethro nods, picking himself up off the couch and treading out the door. He had left his gear at the office, and so all he had getting into the car was his gun and his badge.

Fifteen minutes later, complete with reckless driving now that Gibbs isn't completely exhausted; they arrive at Tony's school, much to the boy's disappointment.

Gibbs searches for something comforting to say, something to end their special night together. He knows this will probably be the last time, but he's okay with parting amicably.

"Why'd you get that shiner?" Gibbs doesn't have to ask who, he knows, but he wonders what Tony did this time. Knowing DiNozzo Senior, it was probably something meaningless like not putting the dishes away.

Tony turns shy suddenly, having forgotten for a moment that he had a black circle ringing his eye, "I said something I shouldn't have."

Gibbs notes the hesitation and doesn't proceed to pry, he knows that whatever Tony said to his father is personal.

"Remember, if he ever touches you again…you have my number." Jethro murmurs, watching Tony's sad smile flit across that young face.

"Thanks again."

"Go learn something birthday boy," Jethro orders, dismissing the youth from his car. He watches Tony get out of the car and walk up the stairs to the front door of his private school. Someone calls to Tony, and the boy's attention turns toward a group of what looks like football jocks. He easily falls into line with them; their talk is loud, drifting through the morning air and through the cracked window of Gibbs' car.

Jethro offers a half smile, rejoicing in the small look Tony throws over his shoulder at him.

And for Jethro, a man already through two divorces and in the process of his third, that small look will keep him going for quite a while.

/

[ eight years later ]

"Bring me up to speed Kate," Gibbs barks, depositing the large Caf-Pow directly in front of Abby. Causing the boisterous goth girl to twirl around and drop a thank you kiss on Gibbs' cheek. Kate rolls her eyes, _leave it to Abby to be the only person able to get within Gibbs' personal space without getting shot. _

"Todd!" Jethro nearly growls, not in the best mood since the director had just told him that his team would be covering a case in Baltimore. The hour and a half drive would be the beginning of the powder keg of his emotions.

"Sergeant Frank Grump was reported missing three months ago by his wife. Last night he was found face down in a bank of snow by a passing drunk teenager. At first, Baltimore PD treated it as a regular homicide based on the center stab mark to his back. However, they are thinking possibly a serial killer or someone who had a religious sort of grudge against him because of the cross-shaped mark carved into his back. Baltimore PD processed the scene and found his wallet three feet away from him buried in the snow. This correctly identified him as a Gunnery Sergeant. So they called us, an unofficial liaison should be waiting for us at the crime scene to pass it off to us—"

"Kate gear up, I'll grab Ducky and Gerald. Abby set up a secure video feed with Baltimore PD, and wait for our arrival there." Gibbs barks the orders, his mood varying because of the lack of coffee he had been able to down during the morning. Suddenly, when he really needed coffee, even the shitty stuff they made in the office was out and he hadn't had the time to go get some.

Jethro stalks down into autopsy, his hand still clenching the travel mug with at least two sips of lukewarm coffee left. "Ducky, Gerald, gear up, we're heading to Baltimore."

It had to be pure fate they would land a case at least two hours away in this weather. The roads had started to ice over, preparing for the snow that had started to fall about ten minutes ago.

"Oh, my dear boy, I guess even evil does not rest for bad weather." Ducky murmurs, preparing their gear for a quick departure.

Within the next fifteen minutes, all four of them were on the road. Kate, gripping the dashboard with white knuckles as Gibbs swerves dangerously around turns while Ducky and Gerald are in their NCIS coroners van.

The weather hampers their travel time, a trip that would usually take at maximum, an hour, and forty minutes in traffic, is now taking upwards of two hours and thirty minutes in the mass amounts of traffic, crashes, and dangerous weather conditions. This does little for Gibbs' mood, further increasing the tension inside the tiny car. Kate tries to distract herself by looking over the gunny's file, checking for anything that might illicit someone wanting to kill him. I.E. reports or claims filed against him.

Two hours and twenty-five minutes later, Jethro finds himself pulling up to a crime scene, taped off by the typical yellow tape. The street is closed because of the crime, but he doesn't find that many people will miss it, all things considered you could call the street an alley of sorts.

Gibbs parks the car haphazardly, aware that one of the front tires has sunk into a pit of slush, but he ignores that fact for a moment. Kate and him get out just as Ducky and Gerald arrive; however, Gibbs is too busy looking for their liaison.

"You must be NCIS," A low voice growls from against a lamppost right next to the crime scene. "The van gave you away." It's a weak attempt at a joke, but considering this guy had to stand out in the cold for the past few hours, Gibbs can cut him a little slack.

"What do you have?" Jethro beckons, holding out his hand for even the least bit of evidence collected so far.

The man draws himself out of the shadows, for once displaying his glimmering green irises, and once styled hair that had since fallen damp and flat with the snow coming down. His breath catches in his throat, words failing him as he quietly takes the notepad and camera from the man's hands.

From all his years and carefully coaching himself to not let anything through the mask on his face, the only sign that he is rattled is the slight shake of his hands as he pushes the notepad into his jacket pocket and starts going through the pictures on the camera.

"Anthony DiNozzo, unofficial liaison for you between NCIS and Baltimore PD," his smirk is cheeky, overconfident, but in a subdued way, a way that only Gibbs would recognize from the naivety of youth. However, Gibbs couldn't recall a time when he hadn't been that. Gibbs swallows thickly, already counting the changes in demeanor from when he had last seen Tony.

The lanky, tan kid from eight years ago had changed into a confident, self-sufficient man who knew he could take care of himself and get the job done. As Gibbs focuses on the photos and mulls through the crime scene sketches and documented notes, he briefly introduces everyone.

"Special Agent Gibbs," he holds out his own hand, firmly grasping the soft palmed, slightly calloused fingers of Anthony DiNozzo. "There's Agent Todd, Ducky our coroner, and Gerald, our coroner's assistant." He points to each of them in turn, none of them able to guess the history between the two of them. They both mutually decide without even so much as a glance, to keep their past secret. Jethro moves around Tony like a dance, skirting the wild looks the youth sends him, and ignoring the quiet comments and jokes.

"I'm here to tell you that Baltimore PD is more than willing to help you with anything you should need, autopsy or desk space. As well, I am at your full disposal, it would be my _pleasure_ to help you," Jethro sighs inaudibly, wishing Tony wouldn't remind him of the past. Doing that weird husky whisper he had used all through the night of his birthday. "Welcome to Baltimore!" Tony greets as a joke, sweeping his hands around in emphasis of the lack of good weather and unsuitable conditions for 'travel'.

"DiNozzo…good work." Jethro raises the notepad, silently impressed by the cop's detail of sketching the scene, collecting evidence, and noting almost everything done at the beginning of the investigation.

Tony flushes with happiness, the rouge across his cheeks gaining in tint for a moment.

"Duck, what do yah got?" Gibbs calls, pulling himself away from the bright gleam in Tony's eyes.

"Jethro, this poor boy had his family jewels chopped clean off, it looks like some surgical tool, probably a scalpel." Ducky pushes up the man's shirt slightly, assessing the entry point of the knife wound. "From just initially looking at it, it seems he bled out due to the singular stab wound in his back and having his bullocks cut off. Also the cross drawn into his back is pre mortem, but does not show signs of healing, meaning it was done very close to death. Whoever did this to the poor marine, wanted him to suffer."

"Thanks Duck, pack him up and take him back to Baltimore PD for the autopsy, we'll get what we need to, to Abby and start our investigation back at the PD. Doesn't look like we're going to be going much of anywhere in this weather." Gibbs states, feeling the slush of snow slide down his cheeks.

/

Tony led them back in his car, the police department bursting with activity because of all the crashes and crime opportunity brought by the snowstorm. Gibbs nearly made a few of the cops piss their pants when they accidentally ran into him as he entered the small building. However, Kate apologized for him and ushered her short-tempered boss into an interrogation room Baltimore PD had changed into a base room for them.

DiNozzo wanders off to go find his boss, obviously displeased with the task. The curiosity to search and discover in Gibbs is almost overwhelming, it had been years since he felt the desire to willingly ask personal questions of someone else.

Thankfully, Kate distracts him. Her voice pulls him out of the muck of complex emotions he didn't even want to begin to unravel. "Ducky just called to say he got set up in the autopsy down stairs with Gerald, should take him a little bit to do the actual cutting. He said something about Baltimore PD being just adequately stocked."

"Get me everything you know about Gunny sergeant Frank Grump, I want to know everything about him. Take this stuff back to Abby and get her to check his phone records. I'm going to dump his apartment and see if I can get a computer for Abby too crack."

"Boss, are you sure you want to handle this end alone?" Kate questions warily, already grabbing her bag and the evidence box.

"Not doing it alone Todd." Gibbs grumbles, his eyes already connecting with the head of brunette hair currently bobbing back towards their makeshift bullpen, a hefty boss in tow.

"Got it, Gibbs on my way." She moves to head out the door, Gibbs grabbing her arm before she can leave. "Yeah boss?"

"You be careful." He warns, thinking over the three accidents they had passed and the five cars that had gotten themselves stuck in the snow.

"I will."

"And stay there, help Abby, we'll work this end."

"See yah Gibbs," Kate murmurs, exiting the room before DiNozzo leads his hefty boss in.

"Special Agent Gibbs, this is Police Chief Larry Watson. Chief, Special Agent Gibbs." Tony introduces, gesturing between them and then backing up to let them speak. Gibbs is slightly disgusted with the sweat collecting on the man's brow. However, he controls the cringe itching to happen and nods lightly.

Neither of them makes the move to shake hands, and Gibbs is perfectly okay with that.

"As DiNozzo has probably told you, we're here to help, whatever you need," Larry ends the sentence with a sharp, loud cough that wracks his stout form.

"He did," Gibbs keeps it short.

"Also, DiNozzo hasn't told you, but if you need him, he's completely in your hands. Whatever you need." Larry places a hand on the younger officer's shoulder, and Gibbs transfers his gaze to Tony.

"Good. DiNozzo, you're with me, we're going to Grump's apartment." This ends their short conversation, and Gibbs doesn't bother offering any passing pleasantries as he walks out of the room. Tony stumbling after him as he tries to hold in laughter at the look on his boss' face.

Correctly thinking that Gibbs would not know where Grump's place is, Tony had been over the file while he was waiting for them to show up at the crime scene. He had gotten a pretty police officer at back at the station to send him the digital version of the file onto his phone so he could do something in his spare time, and thankfully, he had seen the address. It took a few seconds in the elevator to pull up the file again and double check the address, but it helped in the long run. Gibbs got in the passenger seat of Tony's car without saying anything, the boy smirking as he pulls out of the parking lot carefully and starts heading for Grump's apartment.

Their ride starts silently, the travel time being longer with the snow, but Tony feels comfortable with the silence between them. Even though eight years had passed he can still remember the small smile Gibbs gave him just as he was walking into school, almost as if it had happened just yesterday.

"How have you been?" Gibbs murmurs despondently.

"Good, finally got out from under my dad." Tony replies happily, turning onto the street for Gunny Sergeant Grump. "We're here."

**Thanks for all the FABULOUS comments. **

**Like seriously, they make me smile and feel better with EVERY single one!**

**I WOULD LIKE TO ADDRESS A FEW THINGS: :)**

**At the time when Tony is a teenager, and Gibbs is a quite bit younger (in chapters 1 and 2), Thomas Morrow is Director. Now in this chapter Jenny is just learning the ropes and settling into being the new director. In one of the next few chapters there might be more hops, but I'll explain the director situation inside the story if there should be any more drastic time hops. **

**Oh, I know that the time line is a little screwed up because Kate and Tony were working with Gibbs from the begging of season one, but it works better this way for the story.**

**I apologize if everyone is a little upset with the time hops. First of all, this is a crack fic, purely written by me to satisfy my need to write it. Second, I'm trying to get this story to a certain point, I don't really know where, and I don't really know how to explain it, but I want to show the bond between Tony and Gibbs. So stick around!**

**ALSO GO CHECK OUT MY OTHER Gibbs/Tony STORY JUST STARTED CALLED Broken Patriot and American Playboy!**

**See yah in the next chapter!**


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